It's a meeting place.
Where the leaves meet the branch,
I meet you under
its upright stance.
It may not be for business
But underneath the shade,
We can get to work,
And lie where we laid.

Lie where we lay
Take a break to sin
I'd rather spend my day
Wearing your skin

Through the hills and mountains
I trek, and you climb,
To reach the climax,
On top, it stops time.
The view that I see,
Will quickly conquer my pride.
My head, in the clouds
My body, by your side

Hard work breeds sweat
Filth rests underneath my nails.
But that doesn't mean were dirty,
If we stay on the same trail,
Where the leaves are damp
And canopy the wood.
Hard work at our meeting place
But business has been good.
Last edited by dhampian at Mar 2, 2007,